Our Broken Fairytale
by misswhiteblack
Summary: Because whatever this was it wasn't love - CharlieBellatrix, for Aimy ..


_ Written for my scrumptious Aimy to say I missed you. I hope you love it. Merry Christmas._

* * *

><p><strong>Our Broken Fairytale<br>**CharlieBellatrix

I'm holding on your rope, got me ten feet off the ground  
>&amp; I'm hearing what you say but I just can't make a sound<br>_- Apologize, One Republic ft. Timbaland_

**.**

He's passion and fire and so many things that she is not because she's ice and mockery and all the little things that don't stand up well as desirable character traits. There is something about them though when they're together, some kind of wonderful feeling and all differences are put aside, it's just him and her, nothing else.

Except there is so much else, so much going on outside the walls they've built up around them. They come from opposite sides, neither of them bending on what they think is right, on the way they are but they never try to convince the other. It's like an unspoken agreement not to talk about those things but then speaking is rarely a part of their acquaintance so it doesn't matter that much. He doesn't find it difficult to forget what she is because in the darkness she can make him forget his own name as well as everything else going on outside of them.

He doesn't quite know how it all began, a darkened bar, a glass of firewhiskey, a mocking voice. All he knows is how it's ended up in short bursting gasps, grasping fingers, soft flesh and the subtle scent of sex lingering in the air. It's skulking around in the dark, pressing into walls and heart hammering in his chest. It's exciting and dangerous but he likes that because maybe he needs something to distract him for the chaos all around.

He needs her and she needs him, that's the way it has ended up, something harsh and rough to banish all the bad. She's not beautiful, he'd never tell her she was but her skin gleams in the moonlight and the madness in her eyes makes him want to be mad right along with her. He doesn't know what this is but whatever this is it isn't love.

Their intimacy is something strange. She never calls him Charlie, not even when she's on the summit of pleasure but he'll never use her given name either. For some reason, that doesn't bother either of them. He doesn't fall in love with her because in the back of his mind, no matter how he tries to put it out of his head, he knows what she is, what she's done and what she is capable of. It puts an edge right on them and he's well aware that he's being foolish letting her anywhere near him.

Still, nobody could ever call him a coward.

He doesn't know what this is but he can't give it up because she just pulls him to her, with one flicker of mad eyes and he can never remember what the protest was about.

He loves the feel of her in his arms, the feel of her mouth on his skin and there are something things that drive him mad but she's always been good at turning him to putty in her hands. Yet, he can see the way she looks at him, like she can't quite understand him. He should hate her, maybe he does, but he can't stay away and just maybe she doesn't realise what she does to him.

They meet very little but it's in the darkness and they whisper their names into the night, each of them knowing how wrong it is but how can something so wrong, feel so right? He clutches her, grasps her to him, not wanting her to leave but they'll both leave, not looking back and trying not to think of when they'll next be together.

"Charlie," she whispers one night, startling him.

They're lying together in a quiet moment, recovering breath and their skin sticking to each other in a not so unpleasant way. He doesn't respond because it's just t0o strange and she doesn't say his name again but it's like an elephant in the room with them as they dress and leave, no backwards glances, no sweet whisperings to each other.

He doesn't know now if she knew it was the end then, if that's why she whispered his name into the darkness but it's the fiercest battle he's ever fought and he has no doubt that she's here, running around with her mad laugh and taking down whoever gets in her way. He doesn't try to find her, he even tries not to think about her, just focusing on the Death Eaters in front of him, trying to bring them down. He never worries that behind the mask she might be there because he knows her too well to be fooled by a mask.

He catches sight of her once, standing by Voldemort's side, her chest heaving with heavy breathing and he decides in that moment that maybe she is beautiful. Their eyes meet over the empty space as voices take up desperate cries of pain but he has no attention to pay to Harry. He whispers her name, _Bellatrix,_ across the divide between them and watches as a smile curls up the corner of her mouth.

He wonders if she loved him but he doesn't think so. Whatever they had it wasn't love, she couldn't love he knew that and he couldn't love her. Yet they moulded together like fire and ice, sharing something that he cannot even explain.

He watches her fall in a graceful arc until her body hits the ground and he thinks maybe she said his name because she knew it would be the last time. He doesn't feel sorry or angry or sad as he looks at her. There is nothing like that. He wonders if maybe she was free now, like a bird trapped in a maddening cage that had been given room to fly. He thinks maybe it would have been better if he'd been the one to do it, to end her life. Maybe she would have wanted that.

He's the one that carries her from the Great Hall, holding her tight in his arms and remembering her warm embrace. He sets her down gently, not disposing of her like some of others were doing with other Death Eaters. She doesn't look mad at all when he looks at her, brushing a strand of hair from her face, she looks peaceful, something she never was in life.

"Bellatrix," he whispers to her, "I don't know what this was because it wasn't love. I wouldn't have died to save you and I would happily have died to save others from you, happily have killed you to save others from you but thank you. Maybe, silly as it seems, maybe you saved me."

He stands up and turns away. There are no backwards glances.

* * *

><p><em>So there you have it, my first BellatrixCharlie. The pairing was requested by Aimy herself but I'm not sure I've done it justice. Anyway, let me know what you think. Reviews are the lights on my christmas tree. Merry Christmas all.<em>

_Kerr x._


End file.
